


A Bouquet of Eustomas

by peacemturner (idratherhaveyoucursedornot)



Series: PH One Shots Modern AU [3]
Category: Purple Hyacinth - Ephemerys & Sophism (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cute Secretary Lila Desroses, F/M, Fluff, Hope I actually finish this lmao, Lieutenant William Hawkes, Modern Era, Professor Lauren Sinclair, Professor Oliver March, Yeah poor Will doesn't get a break here either oops-, Yoga Instructor Kieran White, Yoga Instructor Kym Ladell, tags to be added as we go, woooooooo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:34:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29427489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idratherhaveyoucursedornot/pseuds/peacemturner
Summary: “TheEustoma Flower, also known as the Lisianths or Texas Bluebellfloweroriginates from the Greek words eu (beautiful) and stoma (mouth), which refers to thefloweras 'beautiful mouth' due to its coloring and shape.....” andWhat am I even going on about?Yoga instructor Kiki and Professor Lauren who needs anger management go YEET HAHAHA but I promise you this, this isn't what you would've expected from this AUDT to Abby and Louonly, without whose brains I wouldn't have written this lolCharacters and vision belonging toSophismandEphemerys. Castles from theiroriginal workmade into air by yours truly.
Relationships: Kym Ladell & Kieran White, Lauren Sinclair/Kieran White, Lila Desroses & Kieran White, William Hawkes & Lauren Sinclair
Series: PH One Shots Modern AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2024216
Comments: 10
Kudos: 42





	A Bouquet of Eustomas

**Author's Note:**

> Known to be sociable, Eustoma flowers are the right choice of flower if you want to give something to express _love_ , _contentment_ , and **_peace_**. It can be a romantic flower on Valentine's Day and anniversary celebration because it is associated with love and emotions. 
> 
> Eustoma is also a flower with several meanings. It is a flower that conveys _appreciation_ and _admiration_ , as well as _friendliness_ , _sweetness_ , and _respect_. The flowers can also speak of **_peace_ **and _happiness_ for a lifetime. 
> 
> Enjoy the ride :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was a reason, a _very good_ reason why he chose this job, but he couldn’t quite remember it with Kym setting him up with a headache. Any other day, and he would have gladly indulged her. He _needed_ to relax. Ah, yes. _Relax_. Yoga was supposed to be calming and relaxing. That’s why he had decided to open a studio of his own, over the other––for lack of better words–– _lucrative_ options.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Orange eustomas symbolize _positive_ _energy_ , _friendship_ , _joy_ and _happiness_.

Exasperated, Kieran hit his head on the break room table with a bang. Crossing his hands over the back of his head, wishing that he could dissolve into the table somehow, he groaned, “The fact that you don’t even _know_ if they are dating is stupid.”

Kym huffed, “Your _face_ is stupid.”

Kieran looked up, glaring at her over his arms, “Your _brain_ is stupid.”

Pointing at him, she mocked, ever eager to get the last word, “ _Ha!_ Joke’s on you! I don’t _have_ one.”

Sitting up straight, Kieran crossed his arms, staring at Kym. A minute passed. Then another, and another, and they both kept glaring daggers at each other. A game of sorts, that they had made into their own over the years. Deathly stares until the one who _accidentally_ messed up the meatloaf confessed, or the one who was _supposed_ to get the eggs finally leaves, or, in this case, the one making zero sense _admit_ that they are making zero sense.

Dejected, voice swinging, much the same as the unsteady chair she precariously perched on, she sang, “Fine!”

If Kieran wasn’t utterly exhausted, he might’ve made a comment about how Kym was quite likely to break a few more teeth falling off of things. _Again_.

Bringing the chair to the ground with a thump, Kym raised both her hands, “Yeah, okay, my brain is stupid.” She lunged across the length of the table, “And this mortal vessel of stupid brain needs your help!”, grabbing at Kieran’s hands, even as he swatted at her.

Kieran groaned into his hands, refusing to look at her or anything at all.

There was a reason, a _very good_ reason why he chose this job, but he couldn’t quite remember it with Kym setting him up with a headache. Any other day, and he would have gladly indulged her. He _needed_ to relax. Ah, yes. _Relax_. Yoga was supposed to be calming and relaxing. That’s why he had decided to open a studio of his own, over the other––for lack of better words–– _lucrative_ options.

Of course, the fact that it was a joint venture with his best friend was a bonus. Said best friend supporting him via her couch when he began to work odd jobs to make his dream a reality was indeed a graceful mercy as well. What _wasn’t_ a bonus, though, was this. _This_ was anything but calm and relaxing. Any other day, and it would’ve been fine, but a 7 pm session after two consecutive sessions wasn’t something he was physically, mentally or emotionally capable of handling. 

Peeking at her from between his fingers, he murmured, “No, it’s definitely your sense of humour that’s worse.”

Kym caught his hands, nearly knocking over his tea with the movement. Gently pulling them off of his face, as she subjected him to the full power of her puppy eyes, she pleaded, “ _Please_ , Kieran! I know you’re tired but this is important to me.”

Heaving a sigh, much the same as the heroine of a period drama, innocently, she batted her eyes, as she relayed her dilemma. “I _need_ to know if Coffee Boy comes to pick her up because of _her_ or because, you know”, she paused, letting go of his hands to swing against the table again, “she has a session with your dearly beloved. _Me_.”

Taking a deep breath, Kieran suggested, “Just _talk_ to ‘coffee boy’ or that- “

He lost his train of thought, mind too foggy after one too many sleepless nights in succession. Slamming a hand down on the table to brace herself, she asked, “The girl?”

“ _Yes_. The girl, the redhead? Talk to her! Ask her.”

Kym leaned in, face contorted in agony. She whispered, looking around the room, “What would I do if she says _yes_?”

“ _Kym_.”

Kieran rolled his eyes. What is it with this woman and not doing the sensible thing! Albeit, he _has_ known her long enough to know that sense and Kym Ladell don’t mix, unless under absolutely exemplary circumstances.

Kym droned on, ignoring Kieran, “You _know_ how my face gets! I can barely guide her in class because I keep thinking about him.” 

Beneath the mockery and jokes was a genuine indecision and a hint of embarrassment, and Kieran couldn’t help but smile despite the throbbing in his head. She had no reason to hold back, because if this Coffee Boy had eyes at all, he wouldn’t let the chance to date Kym pass by.

He coughed into his hand, “Which isn’t very professional.”

Hands flying all over the place, and mouth flopping shut and open like a fish, Kym only paused from defending herself when a snicker from Kieran rung in her ears. Pouting, Kym sat back, “Shut up.”

Kieran chuckled, “I didn’t say anything.”

Turning her head to glare holes at the door, she complained, “You were thinking it.”

Kieran broke into a full laugh. It was hilarious to see _her_ , of all people, act so smitten, and maybe that’s why he made up his mind.

Sliding down from her perch on the chair, Kym nearly became one with the table, sapping down into a pool of awkwardness as she rested her head. She spoke into the table, “This is stupid.”

Kieran wouldn’t let her sulk in her misery. He would never do that to her. He _couldn’t_ do that to her. Momentarily safe from Kym’s flailing limbs, he gulped down the last of his tea.

“Alright, fine.”

Two words, and Kym was back to her usual bubbly self. She cheered, even as Kieran only narrowed his eyes at her, “Yes!” Fingers tapping together, mind running gears already, she suggested, “All you have to do is check if Coffee Boy shows up, and _maybe_ if you use your persuasive ‘ _skillset’_ to-“

Getting up from the table, he warned, “I’m _not_ getting involved with a customer.”

Kym straightened up, all serious, “Yes. _Yes,_ I know. Your ‘ _NCB’_ rule.”

Grabbing his cup, he glared at her, “Which was partly your fault.”

Smirk dying to break into a laugh, Kym spoke, “Bella was _totally_ your type so I just thought-“

Chucking the empty cup in the bin at the corner of the room, Kieran turned around, affronted. The _audacity_. How could _she_ , of all people, laugh over it? He retorted, “She almost got me with a kitchen knife.”

Kym laughed out loud, no longer able to contain herself. He ran a hand through his hair, messing up the bun a little. It was only Monday. Swiping the slot cards on the board for the week, Kieran chided, “It’s times like these when I hate ever having ended up in the seat next to yours in psych class.”

Through her laughs, Kym teased, “ _Cursed_ was the day.”

One good thing was that Kym could manage the morning sessions, and Kieran was free. _Well_ , Kieran didn’t particularly need the time to sleep in, so much as handling the ‘managing’ part of his job. Despite all the support, owning a business was rather stressful. Especially when two of his trainers had to be on leave at the same time, and the third was just as bent on wreaking havoc as she was on doing a good job. 

Checking the chart, and grabbing his water, he mused, “I don’t even know why I put up with you.”

Kym snickered, “I don’t want anything to do with you either.”

Calling over his shoulder as he shut the door, Kieran pouted, “Give me back my apartment key as well, while you’re at it.”

Kym shouted after the closed door, “Thank you, Kiki! Love you, too!”, and dissolved into another fit of laughter. She truly had the _best_ friend she could have ever got.

__________

_Redhead girl that looks like she could kill you._

A blithe description, but who was he to complain? Kieran looked around the hallway as he guided a few of the patrons to the hall on the right, explaining to some of the older regulars about the change in shift for a week. Kieran looked at the clock over the reception desk, a minute more before the clock struck seven, and no redhead so far.

_The things you do for the people you love._

It definitely has to be the annoying sibling energy always radiating off of Kym within a one-mile radius of him. Or else? He might have reported her to the cops for suspicious behaviour. That woman was the walking _epitome_ of disaster and chaos, always in cahoots to create a mess, but he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t enjoy her shenanigans, given how he was a part of them about ninety percent of the time.

Winking at the strawberry blonde mess of hair seated below the clock, he turned to the door with a smile, only to come running back to her. Leaning on the reception desk, he smiled at her, “You do know this is the last session, _Ms. Desroses_?”

As if she _hasn’t_ been working here for over a year? Lila chuckled, “Yes, I do, _Mr. White_.”

“Then, go home. I can always close up, and Kym will be getting some _extra_ chores this week too.”

Adjusting her glasses, she stared at him suspiciously, “Don’t tell me you made another bet?”

He laughed, “More like a favour. It’ll be dark soon and you live far. _Go home_.”

Rarely did Kieran ever act like a boss. Lila, Matt and Andrew never needed the reminders, and Kym? Oh, well, even if he tried, he couldn’t act as anything other than an exasperated older brother around her. More like _bother_ , if you ask Kym, but then she’s not part of the conversation, is she?

Shutting the door to the hall, he took a deep breathe. He may be drained of most of his energy by now, but yoga was something he loved. He absolutely adored the calm of every session, and in between all the worrying over his studio, taking on more sessions was a welcome change.

It’s okay. He could do this. He could do this every day.

Ten minutes into the session, and he wondered if Kym’s description was correct. He couldn’t find a single person matching the description, and by person, he _meant_ person. Well, except for one fuming figure in the last row, who was _a)_ definitely not a _redhead_ , _b)_ not a _woman_ , and _c)_ a fifty-year-old, who seemed rather friendly despite her rage.

And if that was Kym’s definition of ‘ _intimidating redheaded girl’_?

 _Oh_ , then, he had greater issues to worry about than just his friend’s romantic misery. Supposedly, her eyesight, and judgement too, by the looks of it. Maybe the girl simply didn’t come today? Kieran would’ve assumed Kym lied about the whole ordeal just to switch shifts, but he had been a victim to her rants about _Coffee Boy_ for a month now. Despite her love for chaos, she could never put up such an elaborate prank. She simply didn’t have the patience for it.

__________

Shutting the door to the car, Lauren groaned even before she had sat down, “I would shoot Sake in the head any day. _Gladly_.”

William chuckled at her friend’s words. Sake was one of the worst people he had known, although from secondhanded accounts, and yet, he couldn’t help but laugh at her words. Did she ever see the irony? As well as she heard the lies? 

Lauren glared at him half-heartedly, fixing her seatbelt in place, “What?”

William started, “Just that- ”, and he paused. He _had_ promised never to lie to her. Chuckling, he admitted, “March was right to force you for this.”

He laughed some more, shifting lanes. It was just as hilarious when Lauren stormed into his work a month ago, horribly enraged, and trying to build a case to prove that March was wrong. For a minute, William was truly worried, wondering what Professor March could have done to invoke Lauren’s wrath. When she explained the situation to him, he nearly fell off of his chair laughing, as Lauren jabbed him about being a traitor.

_Through the relentless laughter, William got the words out, “I_ _am_ _on your side, Lauren.”_

_She crossed her arms, “Then, second my stance!”_

_William huffed another laugh. Rubbing a hand over his face, he spoke, “I would if it wasn’t in your_ _contract_ _.” A ping went off on William’s phone._

_Lauren groaned, questioning him, “_ _’Anger management’_ _classes?_ _Yoga_ _?” She flopped on the chair next to his desk and grabbed a bundle of papers. Things might have been a little out of hand, but that didn’t mean she_ _absolutely_ _needed any of that. Yoga doesn’t even work! Straightening up the bundles and sorting them in a neat file, she spoke, “I don’t need_ _that_ _. I don’t need anger management classes.”_

_William hummed, showing her his phone screen._

_“Sake’s broken nose says otherwise.”_

_Picture forwarded by the one and only,_ _Professor Oliver March._

_It was both a blessing and a curse for a workaholic like Lauren to be working under a close family friend. Moreover, that family friend having her best friend’s number at his disposal, along with his vote of confidence didn’t bode well for her either. At least she had the good sense to look a bit guilty._

_William frowned at her, “What if he pressed charges?”_

_Lauren shrugged, “He wouldn’t. I have dirt on him.”_

_William smirked, amused, “And you’re admitting that to a_ _police officer_ _?”_

_Lauren rolled her eyes, smiling at him, “I’m admitting that to my_ _friend_ _, the only one that I trust. Who’s always had my back.”_

_William settled back in his chair, crossing his arms, “I’m not talking March out of this.” (He did try to talk March out of this.)_

_Lauren cried out, “Will, please! He_ _just_ _might listen to you!” (March did not listen.)_

Lauren huffed, staring at the dwindling traffic on the street, “I _still_ don’t need anger management classes.”

William rebuked, “Says the woman talking about shooting people in the head.”

Lauren turned to face him. Softly, she began, “Will, my friend, you know _exactly_ how Sake is.”

Unfortunately, that was true. Even if Sake didn’t deserve to get shot, he was very likely to get stabbed in the back of a dark alley because he pissed off someone by running that big mouth of his. Sake was, to put it lightly, not a very tolerable person. Or wise, for that matter.

Lauren laughed, pulling her hair back into a ponytail, “Frankly, you should be more concerned if I _didn’t_ want to shoot him in the head.”

William snickered, turning to the road on the right. He teased her, “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Ren.”

Lauren jabbed right back, eyeing him for any sort of reaction for the nth time, “You _are_ alright with driving me to my sessions, aren’t you?”

Shrugging as he made another turn, Will spoke, “Well, coincidentally, it is close to the precinct and my apartment. Plus, I get off work just in time,” he stared at her for a second, already wary of where the conversation might go, “and what kind of friend would it make me if I didn’t?”

That _was_ true, but William had learned long ago how to skim parts of his truth well enough to get away without telling lies. He was _too_ smart, and thankfully, Lauren was _too_ blunt. She nudged him, “And it has absolutely _nothing_ to do with Pretty Eyes?”

Just once that he had let it slip, and Lauren never forgot. Of course, the fact that Pretty Eyes happened to be Lauren’s instructor was a pure coincidence, but William wouldn’t give in to that bait. No matter what. Nor into any of Lauren’s teasing.

Humming nonchalantly as he parked the car, he asked, “Should it?”

Lauren shook her head.

“You’re not acknowledging the _question_.”

“You’re not acknowledging your _aggression_.”

Will turned to face her, “Seriously, Lauren. It’s been three weeks, and you’re still as wound up.” 

Lauren took a deep breath. Though the sessions were helping, they weren’t enough. She knew that. She also knew that there probably wasn’t something in this world that could do _that_ for her. Losing her calm wasn’t something that happened to her, but with the people she was stuck with, the rage only seemed to engulf her whole at every turn. _Especially_ when she was around Sake.

The façade of nonchalance glued back on, she spoke, “I know, and so do you. My rage _fuels_ me, you know better than anyone.”

Opening the door, Lauren stepped out. Now, it was William’s turn to shake his head, “It’s not a _good_ thing.”

Lauren got out her mat and bag from the backseat, “It’s either that or five gallons of coffee.”

William jabbed, “You do both, you _recidivist fibster_.”

Instead of returning the jab, she left with a wave of her hand and a ‘ _see you later_ ’. Shutting the door, she strutted to the studio. She was hardly ever late, and rather prided herself on _always_ being on time. Right now, however, she was fifteen minutes late. Her good mood left off in a flurry at remembering the reason why she was late.

All thanks to _Sake_.

__________

A shuffling at the main door caught Kieran’s attention, and a wave of red hair caught his eyes. ‘ _Late to_ _the session_ ’ it is. Behind the glass windows, he could make out her silhouette trying to get the main door to open, which simply didn’t seem to budge. The stupid weather worsening the doors. He should’ve got the repairs done _before_ the holidays. Now, there seemed to be no time.

Guiding the patrons to a fish pose, he shuffled to the hallway, to let the redhead in. From the pure agitation flowing through the shuddering glass, it didn’t come as a surprise to him that the lady needed anger management classes. What _did_ surprise him was if she had been coming here for nearly a month, why was she still _so_ _angry_? And at a harmless door, at that?

Entering the hallway, Kieran spun around, moving to the main door. As he jerked the door open, it hit him, _quite_ _literally_ , on the nose––the door as well as the realization––that with someone pushing against the door on the other side, abruptly pulling it open might not have been a very good idea. A weight fell against him, and beside the thought of his misfortune, another thought, another word, _struck_ him, as the breath got knocked out of him in their descent.

_Gold._

_Striking gold._

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos fuel the fire of my writing forges ;)


End file.
